


A Worthy Distraction

by ranchoff



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Fluff and Smut, In which Alistair lies back and gets serviced like he deserves, POV Female Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reunion Sex, Smut, Teasing, Warden Alistair, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 22:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15398901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranchoff/pseuds/ranchoff
Summary: Warden-Commander Lariel Tabris and Alistair attempt to get some work done now that he's returned to Vigil's Keep, but find that they've got some more urgent catching up to do instead.





	A Worthy Distraction

“The lands around Denerim were mostly cleared out by the time we passed through. All we found were lone stragglers roaming near the roads.” Alistair’s words were tense, stilted, airy. He stood across the desk from her while they looked over the map of Ferelden, small stone figures staggered across it to signify areas that needed particular attention or extra patrols.

Lariel nodded, glancing between Alistair and the map while he spoke, their eyes meeting each other several times with increasingly distracted intensity. The summer afternoon sent rays of thick, warm light through the open window, adding even more heat to the fuzzy haze hanging in the air of her office.

He had arrived at Vigil’s Keep that morning. It had taken a monumental effort for her not to make a running leap into his arms the moment she saw his approach. The nature of their relationship was not exactly a secret, but she was determined to maintain an air of professionalism in public. Still, though, after all the events of recent weeks she couldn’t help allowing herself a brief hug to welcome him home, and the fleeting contact with him - even with two sets of armor between them - had set her nerves aflame.

Over lunch, she and her new recruits had told him of everything that happened while he was away: the talking darkspawn, the Mother, the Architect, the assault on Amaranthine. There was more still to discuss about all that, in time, but for now he was giving her a brief rundown on the progress of the Thaw Hunt before he wrote his official report on the matter.

Now that they were finally alone, however, it was all but impossible to focus on Grey Warden business. She had situated herself like this purposely, hoping that the presence of a desk between them would prevent her from becoming too distracted. It had not worked.

“We, um, encountered more of them in South Reach,” he leaned forward, drawing out his speech, “and even larger packs as we headed southwest along the highway. I thought I had heard a mention once, of an old Deep Roads entrance in that area, so we investigated...”

He continued his report and Lariel nodded again, if only because she felt too lightheaded to muster anything useful to say. She tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but his words were overshadowed by how much she _ached_ to her core at hearing his voice again. That wonderful, bouncing voice that somehow made even the driest conversations feel lively. Her favorite sound in the world. She had missed it - missed _him_ \- so much, she wondered if she would ever be able to bear his absence again. At the moment, it was nothing less than unthinkable. She needed him so badly it was a physical pain, digging at her like hunger.

Her eyes wandered to his hands spread over the map. He rested his weight on one, and the way it pressed down and splayed out accentuated just how _large_ it was. His other hand, meanwhile, moved slowly across the map, his scarred fingers grazing against the parchment, so tantalizingly gentle. She imagined -

He cleared his throat, perhaps rather pointedly, and she came back to herself with a blushing realization that her mouth had fallen slightly agape. She tilted her face up to look at him, wearing a mask of feigned innocence - her eyes wide, her lips pulled tightly together. Though, the sight of his handsome face with that familiar, proud smirk only intensified the pounding sensation against her chest, the static tingle on her skin.

“Sooo,” he drawled playfully, not breaking their gaze, his eyes far too knowing, “as I was saying, we found some tunnels in the Southron Hills.”

“Did you - hmm - fill them in?” she asked, biting her lip, her normally light and mousy voice taking on an unintended huskiness. Alistair's eyebrows jumped halfway up his forehead. He shifted just slightly, and the light from the window hit his face perfectly. His light copper hair, his honey-tinted eyes, his freckled skin, his strong masculine nose, his twisted grin - every feature seemed to glow in the sun. She was overcome with the urge to kiss him, kiss every single inch of this beautiful man who she could barely believe was hers.

“Of course.” The way he delivered these two words - silly and teasing but passionate and sexy all at once, how did he _do_ that - erased from her mind any lingering thoughts of getting work done today. There were far more important things to do first.

After a moment or two of electrified silence, she started to move around the desk, but his larger strides met her before she had even rounded its corner. They kissed fiercely despite the effort it took to do so, with her on tiptoe and him bending over, as usual. The contact of their skin sent chills through her limbs and down her back - not just the touch of their lips, but her hands on his face and his hands on hers, their noses and cheeks smushed together in their haste to simply touch. They breathed, rather than spoke, a muffled chorus of ‘ _missed you_ ’s and other unintelligible mutterings.

His arm wrapped around her, just under her rear, and effortlessly he lifted her up so that their faces were level. She threw her arms around his neck, pulling herself up close against him. She struggled now to remember what they had been discussing before this, or why they had even bothered with it when they could have been doing _this_ the whole time instead.

Alistair set her down on the desk, and her legs wrapped around him automatically. Though she couldn’t directly feel the pressure between his legs, thanks to the layers of armor between them, she could still sense it in the way he encircled his arms around her, leaned over her, pushed himself as close against her as he possibly could. He laced his fingers into her hair, which was already falling out of its tight bun, holding her head in place as he kissed all along the edge of her pointed ear.

“Missed you so much, Lariel,” he huffed. Hearing - no, _feeling_ his voice directly in her ear was almost more than she could stand. Her toes curled tight inside her boots.

“I missed you too.” She squirmed free of his lips so that she could bury her face into his neck, pushing aside the cloth and leather of his uniform. With satisfaction, she felt a shudder go through him and a soft moan that accompanied it. The arm he held around her waist tightened even further. She traced her mouth along his neck, making her way from one shoulder to the other with hot, wet kisses that made his strong hands tremble.

He began to pull at her jacket, and she repressed a chuckle. In not much time, they had already come a long way from those first few awkward, mutually clueless times at camp; still, though, he fumbled boyishly with her clothes, far more eager to get them off than he was skilled at actually doing so.

“No,” said Lariel suddenly, and he immediately stopped in his frantic attempt to rid her of her clothes. “I mean, not here.” She scooted herself off the desk and fished around in the leather pouch hanging at her side, and quickly produced a set of keys, holding them in the air with a triumphant smile. She made her way to the door that connected her bedroom to her office, and let herself inside, Alistair following close behind.

They helped each other out of their armor, laughing awkwardly as they tried not to lose their patience at the seemingly infinite number of straps and buckles that had to be undone. The various pieces fell with rustles and clanks of metal against the floor. Finally, though, they both were freed. Lariel paused only for a moment to admire the sight of him; but as much as she wanted to look at him, she wanted to touch him even more. He apparently felt the same, as within seconds they resumed where they left off, skin on skin this time.

Alistair lifted her up again to kiss her, his hardness against her now prominent and unignorable. Not that she wanted to ignore it, though. He carried her over to the bed, laid her down, slid one hand between her legs. He smiled, with bright red cheeks and a surprised upturn of his brows, at finding her already wet. His thumb moved in steady circles, sending a shiver through her legs. His other hand took hold of one of her small breasts while his mouth encircled it completely, sucking and teasing her nipple with his tongue.

She moaned his name, reveling in his touches and the very presence of him over her, so big and solid and _there_. With her again at last. A warm sensation coursed through her, setting her limbs on fire.

His lips moved to her other breast, and in his excitement, the hand between her legs pushed harder against her, a little too hard.

“Ah!” she exclaimed. “Alistair, gentle…”

“Sorry, sorry,” he breathed, easing off while he gave an apologetic peck on her cheek. “Is that better?”

“Mmmm.”

She shook under his touch. A deep, wanting pulse grew between them, evident in every movement he made. She could feel him pressing against her leg, more solid than ever. She could sense how badly he wanted her.

But it wasn't time for that, not yet. This was far too special an occasion to have it out just like that. She was going to make this man feel _good._

“Lay on your back,” she muttered, pushing lovingly at his shoulders.

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled, his eyes wide and sparkling with excitement. She watched him lie back against the pillows, one arm behind his head, one hand resting on his stomach, his mouth curved into a comfortable smile.

Lariel crawled over him, one leg on either side, hovering so that her body just barely grazed him. She laid tender kisses all over his face - his forehead, his cheeks, his jawlime, the tip of his nose. Everywhere except his mouth. He hummed quietly from deep in his chest.

“I’m glad you're back,” she whispered.

“Me too.”

She inched backward, little by little, until she was between his open legs. She crouched down and ran her mouth along them, slowly, smiling at the freckles all over his skin. They weren't as plentiful as the ones on his face and shoulders, but they _were_ every bit as endearing. Lariel kissed all along his legs, noting with satisfaction how his muscles trembled when her mouth approached his groin. She repeatedly worked up as close to it as she could without actually touching it, then wandered back down his thighs.

When it finally seemed as though she had teased him enough, judging by the desperate pitch at which he now chanted her name, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against the base of him. He gave a loud, shuddering breath and she felt one of his hands instinctively grasp at her hair, which had now fallen completely out of its fastenings. He laced his fingers through it while she went to work, her tongue sliding all over his shaft, occasionally wandering down to suck on his balls. He mumbled non-verbally to himself, and as she lifted her head to take a deep breath, she couldn't help staring at him for a moment or two - his brows furrowed tight, his eyes contorted shut, his mouth hanging just slightly open.

She wrapped her lips around the tip, brought her head down, and set to work.

“Oh, M-Maker! Lariel…..” He pulled on her hair reflexively while she gently bobbed her head up and down, breathing carefully through her nose, her lips curled to make herself as soft as possible for him - she had Leliana to thank for telling her about that trick. She tilted her head at different angles, her tongue caressing him, one hand resting on his stomach while the other played softly with his balls.

He hardened more and more inside her mouth, stammering her name like a prayer. She was more than a little proud at how this brave, strong, enormous man of hers turned to butter under her touch. She picked up the pace a bit, unintentionally perhaps, but he responded enthusiastically so she continued at this new, faster speed. She wanted him so bad, wanted him inside her, but she also wanted to draw it out as long as she could. After all those weeks on the road, he deserved some prolonged pleasure.

“Lariel,” he breathed after a few minutes, “Maker - I can't take it anymore.” She lifted her head and wiped her mouth, noting the beads of sweat reflecting the low afternoon light off his forehead.

Not needing any further convincing, Lariel sat up on her knees and readjusted her position, then wasted no time in lowering herself down onto him. He filled her so completely that a deep, throaty gasp escaped her right away, and now it was _his_ turn to smirk again. Maker, though, how she had missed this, missed _him_. As much as she loved using her mouth on him, being able to see his face made her blood pump at a renewed tempo.

His hands slid immediately to her hips, grasping her to assist in the rhythm she created with the sway of her body, the bounce of her legs. He alternated between gasping and biting his lip as she worked up and down. One hand wandered away from her hip, reaching behind her to squeeze her behind and she heard a quiet, pleased clicking of his tongue. Her heart fluttered, her veins pulsing, and she felt the mounting intensity that meant her release was arriving any moment.

He began to thrust his hips upward to meet hers, quickening their pace, which she knew to mean that he was close to his end as well.

“Alistair,” she stammered. “I’m - almost there…”

“Alright,” he answered kindly, but with an understandable tension underlying his voice. He slowed the movement of his pelvis, and she leaned down, wrapping her arms under his shoulders, resting her whole weight on his chest. She shifted just barely to a different angle - the perfect angle, she discovered with a shiver, and with a few more frantical thrusts of her hips she found it. In the split second before it came, she hoped that the walls of the Keep were sufficiently thick.

Lariel buried her face into him, her fingers digging into his skin as she let herself go with a completely unrestrained series of moans, her whole body paralyzed in the wake of the all-consuming flood of pleasure. Alistair gripped onto her tighter than ever, working himself against her with frenzied movements until she heard him, too, emit a satisfied groan directly into her ear. He panted heavily, his thrusts dying down as she felt him soften inside her.

For several moments they simply laid there, her lying on top of him, their chests heaving, their breaths coming in uneven snatches.

“Well,” he said to himself, his voice returning as he finally started to regain his composure. “We, um, got a bit distracted from our meeting.”

“Just a little,” she laughed. She sat up for a moment, leaning on her arms to pull herself off his length, then collapsed next to him. His arm immediately wrapped around her waist and pulled her snugly against him. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, giving a tiny huff of a chuckle at how _sweaty_ they both were.

“Hmm, not the worst way to get distracted, though,” he murmured in a low, happy buzz, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

“Not at all.” Lariel threw her uppermost leg up, wrapping it around him as she often did when they cuddled. She closed her eyes, high from the subsiding adrenaline and the feeling of her skin against his, the fact that he was _here_ again at last, how tiny she felt in his embrace. She was so content, so perfectly comfortable, and the added element of the warm haze in the room made her feel as though she could fall asleep right that moment, despite the daylight still filtering in through the window.

They laid in cozy, exhausted silence, for how long she had no idea. Lariel just wanted to lay there forever, wanted to pretend that nothing existed outside this room. In this moment, it was her and Alistair and nothing else, and if she could design her perfect world she wouldn't have it any other way. Only the burgeoning pink shades in the sky and the loud grumbling of Alistair's stomach convinced her that, perhaps, it was time to come out of her reverie.

“So - dinner?” she asked.

“Wow, you read my mind,” Alistair chuckled. “How’d you do that?”

“Oh, I’ll never reveal my secrets,” she teased, playfully rubbing his tummy. They sat up, though not without a few more kisses. Lariel felt as though she’d never be able to kiss him enough times if she lived a dozen lifetimes.

“I love you,” she said, though words would never be enough to express him just how true it was.

He held onto her face, pulling her in for one last deep kiss before they began the arduous process of cleaning up and getting back into their armor.

"I love you, too."


End file.
